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around if you're new to your wings...or
wingless." She eyed him. "Why?"
    Caprion considered telling her about
his strange dreams, then decided he would sound desperate, perhaps
grasping at straws. “I need to go there,” he said
bluntly.
    "And do what?" Talarin
pressed.
    Find my wings. "Get some answers," he said. “Something has
been…interfering with my Singing.”
    Talarin continued to stare
at him and then she grinned. “Look at you, suddenly so mysterious!”
she laughed. “What do you mean, interfering? ”
    Caprion frowned, unable to
share her humor. “Please, Talarin, would you trust me? I need to
get down there. It’s important.” He met her gaze, hoping she would
see his urgency. Please, he thought, willing her to agree with him. Please understand.
    She studied him closely, concern
crossing her face. Then she let out a short sigh. “I hate it when
you simper,” she said.
    He balked. “What? I do not
simper!”
    “Sure you do,” she teased, “and it
always works! I can never say no to that face!” She shook her head
as though greatly put upon. “I’ll take you below, but I’ll have to
go with you, wingless little bird that you are. We’ll have to be
very careful. We’ll be arrested if we’re caught. And you can’t go
near the prisoners.”
    "I might have to,” he murmured. “But
I’m not defenseless. I can handle a sword.”
    Talarin bit her lip. "The Unnamed are
a race of assassins," she reminded him. "They can wield swords too,
perhaps better than any of us. Would you at least tell me what you
are looking for? Perhaps I can help.”
    Caprion shook his head firmly. “I’m
not truly sure myself. But I have questions. Trust me, I won’t be
long. An hour at most.”
    Talarin nodded in resignation. “The
caves are underground and the soldiers practice at night. You can
only reach the entrance by flying. I’ll have to stay with you until
you’re finished."
    Caprion hesitated at that, considering
the consequences. She could be demoted or worse. “You'll get in
trouble if you’re caught,” he said slowly, rethinking his plan.
“You don’t have to do this….”
    Talarin shrugged. “I know,” she said.
“But I'm not one of those cruel bastards who'll turn their back on
you.” She looked at him pointedly. “I want you to find your wings,
Caprion. I don’t really understand why you’re doing this, but I can
guess it’s important. You’re not rash like your brother. Something
isn’t right and I want to help.”
    Caprion’s gaze softened.
“Talarin….”
    “My uncle is wingless, you know,” she
said abruptly. “But he’s still family. He's not any more or less of
a person.”
    Caprion felt an unknown knot of
tension loosen in his shoulders. Slowly he relaxed, and a true
smile touched his face. “The way my family acts, you'd think I was
a criminal or a drunk. Or worse, like I'm not even a Harpy
anymore.” His smile faded slightly.
    "They'll adjust," Talarin
suggested.
    He didn't respond immediately. “I
haven't lived at home in a year,” he finally said.
    “I noticed,” she replied.
    Caprion sighed. “Sumas is
against me. My mother blames herself. Esta is sweet, but she’s too
young to help. I don't know how long this is going to last. What's
going to become of my life?” He found himself staring at the floor.
“I'm complaining too much, aren't I? I’ve had everything handed to
me except my wings. And now life is going to be hard. I might have
to fight for something, or heavens forbid, earn it. I sound pathetic, don't
I?”
    Talarin wrinkled her nose at him.
“Maybe just a little.”
    He winced.
    She leaned over and punched his
shoulder, laughing. “Don’t lose hope! Here I am, two years into my
wings, and I wake up every morning still thinking they’ll
disappear. I’ve had several wingless relatives in my bloodline.
It’s passed down, I think. I never should have found my star. It’s
like our lives have been switched.” She shook her head at herself,
a wry